


Angel wings

by Cutebeast64



Series: Izumi's birthday 2k18 [4]
Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Fluff, M/M, lots of shu just thinking about things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 20:11:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16394306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cutebeast64/pseuds/Cutebeast64
Summary: Shu has known Izumi for a long time, and he had always considered him like a ray of light in the otherwise gruesome and dark existance he lives. However, he has never tried to reveal that... until today.





	Angel wings

**Author's Note:**

> I love my shuizus ever since shu said izumi was pretty in arcade, but I just got to write something for them. Hope you enjoy it!

 

That is not to say that their whole concept is a fabulation, but merely to state that in this tarnished and depravated world, something as bright and inherently pure has no business existing. If there’s any deities roaming this broken earth, they ought to be sanguinary heroes and war masters -valkyries that have earnt their right place in the heavens through a feast of blood.

Strength the one measure of value, weapons the most coveted good.

Yes, if the many readings he had come across during his life could be given any credit, there was probably a time when kindness and sweetness could give you something other than a quick trip to the other world. Times where people had no need to fight, nor were they threaten by sudden death, and could devote their lives to explore the infinite realm of art - an idyllic life closest to heaven than to earth.

Oftentimes, as he examined an old scroll or toured the pages of an antique book, he’d find himself longing for a life that wasn’t his own in an age he didn’t belonged to. As presumptuous as it might be, the belief that he might have followed a more successful path in life in a world where art was valuable as making war completely unshakable.

A world where beauty could be found wherever you stopped to look ought to be paradise, and yet, not seldom did he concluded that such a cheap beauty couldn’t possibly dream of beating the beauty you find in between the horrors of death.

Like a wildflower blooming in the crook of a wall, wouldn’t an angel born in this rotten world -if that was in any way possible- be all the more stunning?

Yes, like the ethereal silver figure standing in the center of a battlefield with a rifle in hand and blood covering his face, crying without tears as he drowns in a guilt unfamiliar to all.  
“What are you spacing out for, Tsuki-kun?” shaken out of his own mind by the rough yet sultry voice, he finally looked off from the yellow pages of the art book to look at the young hunter that had just climbed up from the trap door.

“Engrossing yourself in a cultured reading from the years of peace is not ‘spacing out’, Sena” he hissed his reply, not even daring to look directly at the pool of stars in those light blue eyes.

“You haven’t turned the page in, at least, half an hour” an instant call out, a smug grin favoring Sena’s delicate feline features “How about reading it out loud for me next time? That way you won’t be spacing out and I’ll get more ‘cultured’~”

Younger than him by a few days and far more skilled when it came to fighting, yet not completely indifferent about the past or the arts, Sena Izumi was one of the few able to read ancient texts, and probably the only true friend he had… if Shu had to describe him in one sentence, however, it wouldn’t be something as mundane as ‘friend’ or ‘fighter’. No, it would be something worthy of his timeless beauty, like ‘angel’ or ‘goddess’... the present era unworthy of his presence.

“Ah, this looks really pretty” while his thoughts were scattered, Izumi had reached out for the book, and opening it gently was now passing his fingers over the drawn pieces. Yellowish and blurred replications of works of art that no longer existed in the world  “What is this one about?”

“That is a painting of a Guardian Angel from the 1900” he explained easily, his mauve eyes inevitably trapped in Izumi’s long white fingers, all too beautiful even in their imperfection. The small pinky, its nail pulled clean off in an accident not so long ago was showing off the bright red flesh even now -a sore contrast with the pink nails in the other fingers.

As if noticing the concerned look, Izumi wrapped the wounded pinky with the rest of his hand, a smile when Shu attempted to question his action.

Life is unfair by definition, a matter of inevitability he thought he had come to terms with. Yet, its cruelty became almost unbearable when it tarnished this beauty. That nail was part of it… the calloused fingers that once were soft and smooth was another. The plentiful of scars that marred his body yet another.

Bullet wounds. Knife wounds. Burning wounds. All too many, all too vivid.

It was impossible to live and remain perfect in this world, a choice must be made for one or the other. And though some days his mind would inevitably wander through the what ifs of Izumi’s beauty in a world where he could hone his looks for a living, he also found every single wound that marred his skin to a be a beautiful testimony of life.

How he wished to make a canvas out of every single mark in izumi’s body -to worship his beauty that was a representation of both the divine and the human, the ethereal and the real, the sweetness and the struggle.

Izumi had certainly struggled, and he had fought too, to be here in this moment. To smile another day and to sit down and hear stories about what people used to believe in. The intricate mythology of angels, monsters, gods and demons, as far away in the past to be concepts impossible to fully understand or accept.

What was an angel? A guiding light for the lost, a shield for the weak, a sword against evil, a messenger of truth. You could describe an angel in many words, and still get no clear answer.

Izumi didn’t minded his lack of answers, pleased just with the dissertation of possibilities. He was just there, sitting on the wooden floor, arms crossed over the table and eyes full of stars, immersed in the daydream built out of Shu’s complex wording. Was this the quiet before the storm or the calming waters leading to a hopeful future? He couldn’t possibly know, trapped in his own human reality, condemned to live nothing but the present.

He reached forward, his own rugged fingers gently tucking stray locks of silver behind the other’s ear. The golden light of a rising sun gracing Izumi’s features, silver hair like strands of moonlight and a whole universe in the blue of those eyes - a beauty able to move someone’s heart was sitting right before him.

“Sena” the name came to his mouth without him invoking it, and before he knew it, words he had kept under lock were spilling out one after the other “I want you to accept a present I have prepared for me”

“For me?” the young hunter asked, pink lips puckering up slightly by the end.

Retrieving his own hand before he fell prey to the desire to trace those lips, Shu reached the other side of the room in three well timed steps, pulling a drawer open to fetch a spiral binded notebook. Brown covers and thick yellowish pages. He flipped through the pages until finding the right one, slowly ripping it off as to make sure the cut was even before presenting it forward.

It was a sketch -carefully shaded and full of fancy details. A familiar sight when standing in the front lines, and one that would often appear in the back of his eyelids.

It was certainly Izumi; hunter outfit on, trusty rifle in his hands, standing on top of a rubbish hill. You couldn’t see his face clearly from the distance, but the drawing gave a lonely feeling coming from the light figure a top the darkness…  and behind him the illusion of white wings spreading wide.

Angels couldn’t exist in this world. Yet, for him, no one deserved such a name but Izumi. In his beauty, in his kindness, in his daily struggle to live and not just survive. An angel in the flesh…

Izumi stared at the drawing, fingers tracing the lines ever so gently.

“Is this how you see me, Tsuki-kun?” he questioned softly, cheeks tainted in a red as soft and warm as the sun right before twilight.

“That is right, Sena. You are, without a doubt, my muse” he replied simply, emotions on his sleeve, no unnecessary additions in the way of flowery language “I have certainly spoke my mind about your beauty before. Had you doubted my words?”

Being called beautiful was probably not the kind of praise a man would desire, yet Izumi… ah, Izumi. His happiness so raw in his gesture, holding the drawing close with a mixture of shyness and pride.

“Before you find the words to ask, the ‘occasion’ is the anniversary of your birth. I wished to show my gratefulness for you being born and being here. My own personal blessing.”

“... you sure can say embarrassing things sometimes…” izumi huffed, quite embarrassed. A beautiful sight, without a doubt “Thank you… I… don’t know how to thank you...”

“How about modeling for me next time? Let me make your beauty immortal” he reached for one of Izumi’s hands, placing a gentle kiss on top of it, an even more flustered Izumi staring back at him.

Yes… if there was an angel in this world, corrupted, broken and disgusting, it had to be the beauty before his eyes. And he’d do anything to keep him safe.

 


End file.
